Authors: Alan MacDonald
It was Monday morning and Angela’s class had gathered together for News Time.
“Now,” said Miss Darling when they were quiet, “who has some news they’d like to share?”
“Ooh, Miss, Miss!” A dozen hands shot into the air. Angela waved her
arm madly. In front of her, Tiffany Charmers was sitting up nicely and not calling out.
“Yes, Tiffany, what’s your news?” said Miss Darling.
Angela slumped forward.
Tiffany, always Tiffany!
“It’s my birthday!” said Tiffany proudly.
“Oh, happy birthday!” said Miss Darling. “Is it today?”
Tiffany shook her head. “No, it’s on Saturday. And guess what, I’m having a pony party at the stables.”
Angela rolled her eyes. Everyone else had a party at their house or maybe at the swimming pool, but that wasn’t good enough for Tiffany. Angela bet that any minute she’d start talking about her pony.
“I’ll be riding my pony – her name’s Princess,” boasted Tiffany.
“Yes, I think you may have mentioned her before,” smiled Miss Darling. “Well, I hope you have a lovely party, Tiffany.”
“I will,” said Tiffany. “All my friends are coming. I’ve got lots of friends.”
Angela caught Maisie’s eye and raised her eyebrows. There was no way she’d be getting an invitation. Tiffany and Angela were not best friends – Angela often said they were best enemies.
At break time, Angela sat on a bench with Maisie and Laura.
“I see Tiffany’s handing out her invitations,” sniffed Maisie. “Sophie got one.”
Angela pulled a face. “I don’t want one of her smelly invitations,” she said.
“Nor me,” agreed Laura.
“Me neither,” said Maisie. “I wouldn’t go to her party if you paid me a million, billion pounds.”
“I wouldn’t go if Tiffany got down on her knees and begged me,” vowed Angela. “Who wants to go to a dopey pony party anyway?”
To tell the truth, Angela had never been to a pony party so she wasn’t exactly sure what it involved. Did the ponies eat birthday cake, play games and wear party hats? In any case, Angela told herself, she didn’t care that she wasn’t invited – not one tiny little bit. Although come to think of it, it would be fun to ride a pony.
Just then the birthday girl appeared, twirling towards them on tippy-toes.
“Hello Ang-er-la!” cooed Tiffany. “What are you doing this Saturday?”
Angela shrugged. “Seeing Laura and Maisie, I expect,” she said.
“Oh, that’s a pity,” said Tiffany, “because I wanted to give you this.”
She handed over a sparkly card decorated with stars and balloons.
Angela opened it and almost fell off the bench in shock.
Angela read the invitation again. Was this a joke?
“You’re inviting ME?” she gasped.
“Well, duh! That’s your name on the invitation,” said Tiffany. “But wait, you’ve never been riding, have you?”
“No, but I could learn,” said Angela.
“’Of course you could, silly, it’s easy!” laughed Tiffany. “So you’ll come?”
“Um … yes,” mumbled Angela.
“Super dooper!” cried Tiffany. “I’ll see you on Saturday then. I can’t wait!”
She gave a little laugh and skipped off across the playground.
Maisie and Laura stared at Angela with their mouths hanging open.
“WHAT?” said Angela. “Well, I could hardly say ‘No’, could I?”
Over supper that evening, Angela told her parents about the invitation.
“From Tiffany?” said Mrs Nicely. “A pony party?”
“Yes,” said Angela. “It’s a party with ponies.”
“I know what it is,” said Mrs Nicely. “But why are you going? I thought you
didn’t like Tiffany.”
“I don’t,” said Angela. “But I do like ponies.”
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be great fun,” said Mr Nicely, who said that about everything.
Mrs Nicely wasn’t convinced. “It doesn’t say what you’ll be doing,” she said.
“Riding ponies,” replied Angela. “Tiffany’s got her own.”
“That’s all very well,” said Mrs Nicely. “But aren’t you forgetting that you’ve never ridden a horse in your life?”
Angela sighed. “Mu-um! Anyone can ride, it’s easy!” she said. “If Tiffany can do it then I’m sure I can.”
“Of course you can,” said her dad. “Anyway, I’m sure there’ll be people at the stables to help you.”
Angela couldn’t imagine she would need much help. After all, sitting on a horse couldn’t be that different from sitting on a chair. And besides, she’d ridden a donkey at the seaside, so a pony wouldn’t be any trouble. She’d probably turn out to be a natural.
After all
, she thought,
I’m quite good at most things
.
Her mum read the invitation again.
“Riding clothes!” she sighed. “What does that mean? Riding hats and jodhpurs, I suppose?”
“I’ve got joggers,” said Angela.
“
Jodhpurs
,” said her mum. “They’re riding trousers.”
“Can we buy some?” asked Angela.
“Certainly not,” said her mum. “I’m not buying you expensive jodhpurs, just for Tiffany’s party. You’ll have to wear
what you’ve got – jeans and boots.”
“And I’m sure they’ll have riding hats at the stables,” said Dad.
Angela nodded. As long as she could go, she didn’t mind if she had to dress as a Christmas tree. The truth was she’d always wanted to go riding, but her mum said that lessons were too expensive. She’d never dreamed that Tiffany of all people would give her the chance.
Angela frowned.
I wonder why she did invite me?
she thought.It wasn’t like Tiffany to be so nice. Maisie said Tiffany was up to something, but that was only because she was jealous she hadn’t been invited herself.
On the day of the party, Angela’s dad dropped her off at the riding stables. Angela could hardly contain her excitement. She couldn’t wait to see which pony she would be riding.
Tiffany and the other girls were already in the yard with Mrs Charmers. Angela recognized Sophie, Alice and
Suki from her class. Her face fell when she saw that they were all wearing black hats, short jackets and smart cream jodhpurs. Angela was the only one dressed in old jeans and dirty wellies.
Tiffany shook her curly hair. “Oh Ang-er-la!” she sighed. “Didn’t you read the invitation? It said come in riding clothes.”
“But these are my riding clothes,” said Angela.
“Jeans and wellies?” laughed Alice.
“And where’s your riding hat?” asked Suki. “You can’t ride without one.”
“She can’t help it,” said Tiffany. “She doesn’t even go riding, do you Ang-er-la?”
Angela hung her head. Why hadn’t anyone warned her that wearing riding
clothes mattered so much? Now she was the odd one out. And to make matters worse, it was obvious she was the only beginner. Angela wondered if that was why Tiffany had invited her in the first place – so they’d all have someone to laugh at.
“Never mind! You’ll have to do,” sighed Tiffany. “Come on, we’ll find you a riding hat.”
The girls trooped off to the stables. Angela had to borrow a hat. It was far too big and kept slipping down over her eyes.
Then it was time to saddle the horses. Mrs Charmers helped Tiffany with her little white pony.
“Daddy bought me Princess,” Tiffany boasted. “She cost thousands but I just had to have her.”
The other girls were all riding their favourite ponies. They had names like Blossom, Poppy and Bilbo. Angela stood helplessly watching them do complicated things with buckles and stirrups.
Tiffany put one foot in her stirrup and climbed on to Princess’s back.
“Wait a minute, what about Angela?” said Mrs Charmers. “Which horse is she going to ride?”
The girls all looked at Angela. She certainly wasn’t borrowing one of
their
horses.
“Who’s left?” asked Alice.
“I know!” cried Tiffany. “Dobbin! He’d be perfect for you, Angela.”
The other girls dissolved into giggles.
“Which one’s Dobbin?” asked Angela, looking round.
One of the stable hands, Linda, went and brought him out. Angela stared. Dobbin wasn’t a pony, he was a horse. A grey carthorse as big as a barn with ginormous hooves!
“But … but I can’t ride
him
!” spluttered Angela.
“Of course you can,” laughed Tiffany. “Anyone can ride Dobbin, even you, Ang-er-la!”
Angela thought that was easy for Tiffany to say. Princess was as dainty as a buttercup. Angela was going to need a stepladder to even get on Dobbin’s back.